Dear Antonio
by SozoRyoko
Summary: A short Spamano story about Lovino's last words to Antonio. Enjoy!


Okay, I'll state beforehand that Antonio is Spain, Lovino is Romano, Feliciano is Italy, Bella is Belgium, Ludwig is Germany, Francis is France, and Arthur is England. Please review!

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><p>Antonio,<p>

When I was young, you promised me that things would get better.

I don't understand why you would say something so wrong.

That is okay, though. It's reassuring knowing that you are well now. Soon, I will be, too.

I wonder what it's like where you are. I bet there are the finest of wines, and rows and rows of growing tomatoes. Hey, bastard, don't be greedy. You better save some for me. Have you seen any old faces? Have you met any new ones? Are there plenty of turtles to keep you feeling of home? Oh, there are so many questions I want to ask, but you'll probably give me a stupid answer, won't you? Because you think you're such a clever bastard.

Feliciano misses you. He cries and cries until that useless German comes to calm him down. Bella cries too. I think she's pretty shaken up about this. Do you know why they would cry so much? I don't. Quite frankly, I find it silly to cry at all. No, I'm not crying, nor have I ever cried because of this, I-I just have water on my face! Don't accuse me of something so stupid! Jeez, you're just like Feli with the false accusations.

It's summer now, and everything sucks. It has rained like its never rained before. From June to now, August, the rain hasn't lightened up a bit. Some of the houses and towns have flooded, and the death toll is raising rapidly. Feliciano has visited me a few times, but for the most part, he stays with stupid Ludwig. I haven't left the house for a few weeks. Not one foot outside. I know that the food in the fridge is running low, but I haven't the energy to eat, anyway. This feeling, Antonio…. I don't understand it. It feels as if something is crushing me, and I can't get up. Until now, I would just lay on the sofa and blankly stare at the ceiling. I wished that I could pull myself together, but there was nothing that could hold me together. I'm surprised I even got as far as to stand up, find a pen and some paper, and scribble this down. I apologise for the messy handwriting, by the way.

Actually, I'm sorry for a lot of things. I'm sorry for killing that turtle when I was twelve. I'm sorry for complaining whenever you fucked up at creating a meal. I'm sorry for shoving tomatoes down your pants when I was mad. I'm sorry for being too lazy to do the tasks you asked me to. I'm sorry for causing you trouble. Oh, Antonio, I never meant to cause you as much trouble as I did. If I could take it back, I would. But in a way, I wouldn't. In a way, I think that the things that I did strengthened our 'bond.' It sounds silly, doesn't it? You're probably laughing that annoying laugh of yours, huh? Hmph, you're such an asshole sometimes, y'know that?

I saw that you dedicated land to me. Why would you do that? There's no way in Hell that I'd accept it. Don't you understand that? I have enough land as is, and it should basically belong to Feliciano, anyway. I know that if I don't accept it, Francis will take it, but let him have it. Maybe he and that Portuguese fellow can split it. Or maybe you can just let a new ruler come and claim it. Or you could simply let it fade away, like what happened with Grandfather. Hey, do you know what I just discovered? The ink in a pen doesn't last long.

I should probably wrap this up.

I'm going to admit some things, now, okay? I'm going to spill my guts.

I miss you. I miss you so much that I feel as if there is absolutely no point to my existence. When I close my eyes, all I see is that fading memory of your cheerful smile and olive coloured eyes. My face is stained with tears, and my eyes are painful to open. Did you know that everybody attended your funeral? Even stuck-up Arthur did. He even went as far as to wish you well, and to forget about all the things that happened between you guys. Not one soul had a dry eye, not even me, and I know that's not what you would have wanted. I'm sure you'd be happy that you were buried next to the tomato garden, though. I hope you don't mind that I kept your cross necklace. I have never taken it off, and I plan to keep it on until I die. It took me a week to admit to myself that you were actually dead. It shouldn't have happened that way. I hope you died peacefully, though, with no pain involved at all. My house still smells of your cologne. My lips still reek of your taste. My hands still feel of your grasp. And in my my weak voice, I can hear your whisper. I want you to comfort me like you'd do when I would scrape my knee. I want you to press your lips against mine to soothe my crying.

Maybe you'll read this somehow. It's okay if you won't. I just needed to get this on paper. The wind is picking up, the storm is getting worse, and my strength is fading quickly. I think this is good, yes? This means I'll be seeing you soon. I hope it's sunny where you are. I hope that when I see you, you have a basket of fresh tomatoes waiting for me. I hope that that Feliciano inherits the land I will have left over. And I hope that you and I may spend eternity together.

I'll see you then, Antonio.

- Lovino.


End file.
